Gift
by aphelion-orion
Summary: How did the 'Bond of Flames' keyblade come to be? [oneshot, shounen ai, AxelxRoxas]


**Title:** Gift  
**Fandom: **KH2  
**Pairing: **Axel+Roxas  
**Rating:** PG**  
Warning:** shounen ai  
**Notes:** A little speculation on how the "Bond of Flame" came to be.

**-**

**Gift**

-

Leaning against the heavy white door as it fell shut, Roxas pressed his hands against the marble's sharp grooves, feeling them dig into the leather of his gloves. As cold, crisp air brushed across his face, he couldn't help but release a sigh of relief.

It was cold outside, the wind whistling around the towers, and something about the sharp iciness of the wind promised a freedom, a clarity for his thoughts that the castle's inside couldn't offer, wouldn't offer to him. Its inhabitants created an atmosphere which tasted like oil, smooth and slick and persistently clinging to his very being (or not-being, as it were) until he felt like being suffocated by all their neuroses and was almost ready to start developing his own. He would have called it cabin fever, if the castle hadn't been so large, if he weren't so sure he could see wraiths around every corner, ghosts lasciviously twining around the burnt-out selves of his elders. He couldn't really call them his peers, after all.

Strange, how the mere shutting of a door calmed him, made the castle's inside seem so far away.

Roxas pushed away from the stone surface, walking out onto the ivory and gray checkered floor that stretched forth in a circle in all directions, forming a platform. He couldn't fathom its purpose, if it even had that - like the lost souls of the Nobodies, few things in the castle had a purpose.

He didn't stop until his toes touched the edge, ahead of him nothing but a fall of a hundred yards into the dead city below. The wind was much stronger here, tugging at his hair and coat, howling around the edges and bays beneath like an angry hound. Shivering a little, Roxas ducked his head into his cloak's collar, and carefully sat down at the very edge, his feet dangling in the empty air.

Past the tips of his boots, he could see the neon lights from the city, winking faintly up at him. When he looked at them long enough, the dark shapes of the buildings wavered and disappeared, leaving the lights free to form patterns, unknown figures of white and yellow and blue. Looking at the world through unfocussed eyes tended to give things a new perspective, Roxas found, and playing this private game helped him think. Hunching his shoulders further against the wind, Roxas lost himself in the flickering artificiality of the city lights.

---

"So here you are. I was wondering."

He isn't sure how long he has been sitting there, it could have been anything from a few minutes to a few hours, when something somewhere inside of him just goes haywire, like a delicate measuring instrument's needle going off-scale, a split second before a dark void begins forming behind him. Roxas doesn't need to turn his head, doesn't even need the familiar voice or the soft tap-tap of a long-legged stride to know that it is Axel behind him, Axel who is apparently back from wherever they sent him to, smelling of embers and ash like he has been in a fight.

Roxas doesn't know how he can tell that it is Axel, except that he has been able to do so after a while, in a freakish version of a sixth sense. The needle is still trembling violently on the far end of its invisible scale, getting the adrenaline going like in a battle, except that he cannot really bring himself to consider Axel a threat. The man is a wild card, unreadable and unpredictable, but he is lacking the oily, dragging feeling Roxas gets from all the others, like his flames can burn it all away. For a second, Roxas has a vision of the entire Organization catching fire from Axel by accident, and lets out a soft snort at his own thoughts.

Axel has moved behind him. "Pretty lofty spot you picked," he says, but he is not looking around. Roxas can feel those cat-green eyes fixed on the back of his neck.

Roxas doesn't respond, hunching further in on himself as a particularly icy gust of wind is trying to worm its way beneath his clothes.

"Hey, Earth to Roxas," Axel drawls, leaning downward to wave a hand in front of Roxas' eyes, making the pretty light-shapes Roxas has constructed so carefully dissolve and return to their original selves, neon signs and windows set in dark, hopeless towers. He scowls up at Axel, annoyed that he can't even do without attention for five minutes until Roxas is ready to take a break from thinking.

Axel stares back at him with a grin, until Roxas' patience wears out. "What?"

"Hey now, I just got back. No welcome-hug? Or an 'I missed you terribly, Axel'? I'm hurt."

"Liar," Roxas murmurs sullenly. "I couldn't miss you even if I wanted to. Which I don't."

The redhead makes a dramatic show of staggering and clutching at his chest, attempting to pull out the invisible stake that has pierced his nonexistent heart, and Roxas feels the needle slowly creeping back to point zero. He decides to ignore Axel and make another attempt at light-shaping, picking up his tangled thoughts.

The needle jumps off-scale again, just as two lanky arms wrap around his middle and tug him back against a solid front of muscle and bone. "You're freezing," Axel murmurs, rubbing his nose against one marble cheek. There is a sudden surge in temperature, and Roxas can't quite hold back the sigh that escapes him as heat starts seeping through his clothes and into his body like tendrils of a slow, steady fire.

Axel grins from where he is still nosing his cheek, undoubtedly and inordinately pleased with himself.

"If you singe me..." Roxas grumbles, leaving the threat hanging in the air between them, because he doesn't like that Axel makes his brain all muddled by doing things like that. His traitorous body has already slumped back into the rather large heat source, away from the edge and the lights, so Roxas resorts to staring up into the storm clouds. They are nowhere near as nice as light-patterns, pretty dull, in fact, and the fact that he is suddenly feeling like a cat next to a hearth fire, lazy and sluggish, doesn't make his thoughts come back faster.

"I won't," Axel says, amusement coloring his tone. "And if I do, here's my preemptive peace offering."

He uncurls the fingers of one hand and drops a small paper-wrapped lump in Roxas' lap. Some of the lethargy flees him at that, and he pokes at the shape with all the wary curiosity of a scientist dismantling a bomb. "What is it?"

"Present, genius," the redhead chuckles. "Go on, open it."

Roxas doesn't. He pokes it again, but it doesn't make funny noises, or deflate, or explode like some of the jokes Axel has played on some of the others. "Why?"

Axel rolls his eyes. "I wanted to, okay?" he snaps, obviously not liking his motives called into question. Roxas blinks at him and wonders why his cheeks are suddenly trying to match his hair, but doesn't ask. Axel can do lots of weird things, after all, and not all of them have a reason.

So he carefully begins prying away the tape from the paper. He doesn't think that he has ever received a gift before, but still, something tells him to treat it with care.

"This isn't brain surgery, Rox," Axel complains but Roxas continues at his own pace anyway.

The paper unfolds to reveal the delicate links of a small chain, gleaming red and golden. Blinking down at it, Roxas can't quite keep the bewilderment from showing on his face. "This is..."

"Yeah," Axel mumbles against his neck. "Had an assload of items from all those damn Heartless, and there was this Moogle puffball floating around. For not having hands, those little critters are damn good at forging things. So I just told him to make something nice, and... well."

Roxas lifts the small keychain and amuses himself by batting at the miniature chakram dangling from it with his little finger. Then, he sends the redhead a meaningful look.

"Yeah, okay, maybe I did give him some pointers," Axel admits a bit sheepishly. "At any rate, it should make your keyblade look better than that sissy pink shell charm thing."

Roxas lets the keychain sink into his open palm, link by link. It is shimmering softly against his dark glove. Then, he closes his fingers over it, feeling the chakram's small spikes digging into the leather. "Thank you," he says quietly, feeling the needle do another jittery move in the opposite direction. "But… I don't have anything to pay you back with." It is true, he realizes as soon as he says it. He doesn't have anything of value to give to Axel.

"Psh," Axel waves him off. "That's why it's called a gift, Roxas. I didn't expect you to."

Roxas eyes him, partly surprised, partly suspicious. Nobodies don't give gifts. Any favor that is done expects another kind of favor in return. That is the way things work here.

"Stop trying to think this to death," Axel grumbles. "The only ulterior motive I have is the one that you already know about." One of his hands lets go of its hold on Roxas' stomach, trailing down to his thigh. Roxas tenses and considers hitting him with a keyblade. Axel smiles and lets go of his thigh, loops his arm back around his waist. "But I'll get that whenever you're ready. I can be a very patient man."

Roxas raises an eyebrow. "Why?" It makes no sense, that Axel should be patient in that respect when he can't be patient with anything else. It makes no sense, that Axel won't just attempt to take what he wants by force... not that Roxas wouldn't fight him every step of the way if he did.

"Why not?" Axel counters. "Good things come to those who wait."

"What makes you think _I'll_ come to you?"

"A hunch."

"A hunch," Roxas repeats.

Axel's mouth twists into a grin that would look right at home on, say, a man-eating shark. "Yep. A hunch."

Roxas sighs and shakes his head. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to figure Axel out, no matter how hard he tries. Sometimes, he half-believes that not even Axel has himself figured out.

His attention returns to the pinpricks of the chakram in his palm, and he uncurls his fingers, letting the keychain dangle between them. He holds it up against the dull gray of the clouds, admiring its shine. The magic metal is glowing with its own light, shimmering like the flicker-snap of flames.

Nobodies don't have preferences, and nobodies can't like anything. But somehow, the jittery needle tells him he likes this keychain. He likes it because Axel gave it to him, however weird that may sound.

Feeling his lips tugging upwards, Roxas lifts a finger to them, catching them in the unfamiliar act of smiling. He isn't quite sure why he smiles, other than that it has something to do with the physically impossible act of liking.

And as he sits there, feeling warm and jittery and smiling, he isn't aware that right now, he is giving Axel a gift in return.

---

**A/N:  
-** The "ghosts" Roxas is referring to are, of course, metaphorical ghosts.  
- I don't think that Axel is OOC in this one, actually. People always tend to act differently around the ones they like, and I don't think Axel is an exception to the rule, judging from the KH2 footage we've all watched a million times over.- The tense shift was entirely intentional.  
- The "sissy pink shell charm" is of course, the chain for the Oathkeeper keyblade.  
- One amusing and completely unrelated fact… the "Bond of Flame" Keyblade is called "Flammenfesseln" in German… which roughly translates to "flame bondage". Gee, Square, trying to tell us something? ((snickers immaturely))

C&C is most appreciated. ((makes puppy eyes))


End file.
